


Ma Fille

by MorpheusEnMemori (Its_Darling)



Series: Awkward Murder Uncle [3]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, Swearing, Trans Male Character, Trans!Spy, awkward murder uncle, eh Spy was an uncle figure in a part of this, mild violence, some of the other characters are mentioned but they're real minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 03:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Darling/pseuds/MorpheusEnMemori
Summary: It all started with a photograph.The Spies were arguing, and in such a foul mood that everyone noticed.Scout didn't know it, but he would find out about a lot of secrets that he never thought he would learn.Title by: explodingjellyfishareawesome





	Ma Fille

**Author's Note:**

> A character study of the BLU Spy, Scout, and Sniper (to a smaller extent for Sniper)  
> based on a headcanon plot I shared around discord and phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess  
> and people assured me it wasn't silly.

                Scout knew this was going on for weeks. Everyone at BLU was tense, especially when it concerns Spy. He’s been in a _mood_ , and been particularly antagonistic towards everyone for weeks.  
                Okay. Not quite true.  
                Both the Spies have been viciously going after each other for weeks. That’s what Snipes says, and it was only now that Scout saw it unfold.

                Typical day, occasionally beating the shit outta his counterpart (and insulting the fucker. Who cares that he was five minutes younger, they’re literally alike). There was a strange lull. Engie was trying to reset his sentry, Sniper was in respawn… Medic and Heavy were off wherever, probably competing with their RED counterparts. Demo was drunk with Soldier.

                Scout saw the RED Scout and was ready to go to blows, then in the middle, an explosion of smoke appeared as Spy was on top of the RED Spy.  
                That was such an unusual sight that both Scouts couldn’t help but stop and stare at the suit-clad figures.

                “ _Rends le **moi**_.” Spy says.

                “ _Quoi_.” The RED Spy says.

                “ _Vous l’avez. C'est à moi. Rends le **MOI**_.” Spy says.

                The RED Spy narrows his eyes, shoving Spy off him. They both get in a strange stance, fencing? Maybe, but they seemed ready to stab each other with just their knives.

                “ _Va te faire foutre_!” the RED Spy says.

                “ _Encule toi salaud_!”

                “ _Brûle en l’enfer, fils de pute_!”

                “ _Nique ta mère_ _!_ ”

                “ ** _Fous le camps et morte_**.”

                And it continued. All the French insults, a bunch that Scout learned from his friend. The Spies must be pissed if they are willing to start shouting in French in the middle of battle. The little window that shows their face, it was appearing beet red from the exertion. And the slew of insults, probably. Given how loud the shouting was, it was enough to cause some of the fighting to stop. Scout didn’t hear the explosion of bombs and rockets. That, and the RED Scout seemed at an utter loss on what to do. Getting in between the Spies, with this sort of issue… That was a death wish.

                Scout hears someone walking to him, glancing behind to see Sniper. He had his bow set, almost seemed ready to notch it, shoot the RED Spy. Then he listened.

                “They’re really going after each other.” He says.

                “I know Snipes, it’s almost funny.” Scout says.

                “You know what they’re saying?” Sniper asks.

                “Of _course_ I do. But they didn’t use the best one.” Scout says.

                Sniper didn’t believe him. Scout knows when someone doesn’t on the base. With Sniper, it’s when he shifts to a casual position, his weapons nowhere near set for firing and always had that _smirk_. Scout would prove him wrong. He turns back to the Spies, and cups his hands.

                “Hey Spy! **_Ta mère suce le penis d'animaux pour l'argent_**.” Scout says.

                Surprisingly, the Spies did stop, glancing to him. Once the insult came out, the way they turned, almost disgusted at the image the phrase gave them. It was funny.  
                The RED Spy turned his attention to Scout, and he caught the start of what would probably be ‘your mother should wash your mouth out with soap’ since it wasn’t the start of a swear. Then, Spy stabbed RED. He keeps hold of his counterpart, probably to make sure RED wasn’t about to run off.

                “ _Comment savez-vous le français_?” Spy asks.

                “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Scout asks.

                “You didn’t _mispronounce_ it. Who taught you?” Spy asks.

                Honestly, Scout should have paid attention. He would have seen the RED Scout dash for Spy and bash his head in. Oh well, guess it was back to fighting. Scout could at _least_ -  
                Or Sniper could get an arrow in the RED Scout’s head.

                “You know I’m about as surprised as the Spook is, ankle-biter.” Sniper says, “That’s not an easy phrase to say.”

                “What, you know French too?” Scout asks.

                “Wouldn’t you like to know…” Sniper trails.

                The fighting goes back to normal. Well, as normal as an awkward situation can get. It’s not until after the match that Spy approaches Scout again in respawn.

                “How do you know French?” he asks, “Why now of all times?”

                “I mean, it did give you a chance to get the RED Spy a backstab, and you’re welcome.” Scout says.

                Spy inhales deeply, when he’s done with everyone. He doesn’t give a response, simply storming off to… wherever. Maybe his smoking room.

*

                It’s weeks later when the photographs surface.  
                The RED Spy and his Ma.  
                Originally, Scout took it out on the RED Spy (and surprise, his counterpart wasn’t happy either, let the RED Spy die without retribution many times). Then, when it seemed that there were far too many photos, Scout thought to think of where they came from.  
                Heavy and Soldier were the ones to ask the question.

                “ _You mean you don’t remember when Spy said that your mother was a member of the RED Spy’s fanclub_?”

                “ _Dah, Spy indeed said that. Had the pictures_.”

                Wasn’t the best decision, but Scout figured he had to casually bring this up to Spy.  
                By knocking the shit out of him in the rec room when he walked in. Scout punched so hard that he managed to knock out a tooth. Spy spat on the ground, slowly directing himself to Scout with his typical glare. Then the slimy bastard _smiles_.

                “Finally figured out who took the photos?” he asks.

                “Listen here, I’m mad at him too. But your response was to spread the pictures around?” Scout asks.

                “Non. You can blame Soldier for that.” Spy says.

                “What did you even need them for?” Scout asks, “And don’t say it’s nothing to concern myself with, everyone saw your swearfest with the RED Spy.”

                “And you still have yet to mention who you learned French from.” Spy says.

                Scout gives Spy a finger, and throws a casual French swear Spy says all the time. Spy wasn’t an awful guy, when he wasn’t in a mood. Before these photographs started getting tossed around the base. Before…

                “What did he do?” Scout asks, “I’ll tell you who taught me French if you explain what the fuck’s going with that?”

                Scout was almost ready to run off, and he figured one more chance to get Spy to talk.  
                It went the way he figured. Spy rose up, patted himself off, and insisted it was nothing. Scout figured that was the end of it.  
                Then there was a pattern.

                “Nothing to concern yourself with Scout.” He says the next day.  
                “It’s merely a gentleman’s disagreement.” He says the day after that.  
                “It’s not as though you could help me.” He says on day three.  
                “Are you sure this is the only thing you want to know, just so I know who you learned French from?” he says later that night.

                He doesn’t ask anything on the fourth day. But on the fifth, he convinces Scout to come into the smoking room. He brought out gin, and was more than willing to share.

                “The dispute is about photographs, ironically enough.” Spy says, “The RED Spy has a photograph that is dear to me, and I would like it back.”

                “You can’t just… steal it back?” Scout asks.

                “Oh. I have tried, numerous times.” Spy says, “But, there are things he doesn’t know is missing that I have hidden. I presume he has spots I am unaware of.”

                Spy looks at him expectantly. Right, his part of the agreement.

                “So I learned French from an actual Frenchwoman.” Scout says.

                “Good lord, a woman saying those things?” Spy asks, “Her maman must have… had… have had. Why does English work this way? In any case. Swearing like that, it isn’t very proper for a woman to do and her mother…”

                “Funny thing, she doesn’t know her ma.” Scout says, “And she’s around my age.”

                Spy listens to Scout’s story with mild interest. Meeting the young teen who stumbled with her accent and words, but when someone laughed at her usage of slang, the young teen manages to shut everyone up. With fists.

                “So yeah, ends up she lived three doors down from us, and her granny was really all we saw… she was intimidating. Never saw her dad nor her grandpa much. Ma ended up chatting about how much she wanted to adopt Tess.” Scout says.

                “That is the first time you mentioned her name.” Spy says, “Tess?”

                “Short for Teresa.” Scout says.

                Scout didn’t think much of the Spy’s reaction. It wasn’t until he heard the glass shatter that he notices Spy with a deer-in-the-headlights stare.

                “Teresa what?” he asks.

                Scout barely heard it, it came out as a whisper.

                “Teresa Devaux.” Scout says, “Why is that important…?”

                Spy takes in a deep breath, and Scout knows he seen a side of Spy he might not catch again. The man leans forward, and the nonchalant mask returns. Scout raises from his seat, sitting the glass aside and moves for the door. That was usually when Spy told him to get out anyway.

                “If you can think of something, anything, to get it back…” Spy starts, “I would be in your debt.”

                “No promises Spy.” Scout says.

*

                The thought came up on occasion, about Spy’s reaction. Well, no idea what the photograph was. No idea where to start with it, really. Scout didn’t have a lot to rely on, and it wasn’t as though he could as the RED Spy to fork it over.  
                Okay he entertained the thought and knew exactly what he would get: a knife in the back.

                Well, Scout supposed the next best thing was to call Ma.  
                Why? Because he confirmed from his brother (definitely not at a bar, casually, without fighting. Nope) that she has no idea about the photos being spread around the BLU base.  
                Only when he went to call, the RED bastard appeared with a particular glare. Too bad for him, Scout already gotten Ma on the phone.

                “Yeah Ma? Yes it’s Juste.” Scout says, “Hey, you know how Tess is? Been a bit since I- Wait, what. She’s working? You… don’t know where? She sends letters? Oh, that’s neat.”

                That was not what he was expecting. He heard his ma explain all the details that Tess gave, which suspiciously sounded as though she was working for MannCo, for either RED or BLU. But that can’t be right, Tess is probably doing some intense ballet.

                “Hey ma. Quick question. You got all the photos with Tess, Jeremy, and I from high school right? Think you can send me a couple copies?” Scout asks, “You can? Awesome! Thanks Ma. Yeah that’s all I wanted to ask about. People found out I spoke some French and wanted to know about the gal that taught it to me.”

                With that, he hangs up after many goodbyes and promises he would call more often.  
                The RED Spy appears deep in thought, and pilfers out a cigarette.

                “What are his terms?” the RED Spy asks.

                “For…?” Scout asks.

                “For the item of interest.” The RED Spy says.

                “Dunno. Said he’d do anything to get it back, but I figure he don’t actually mean it like you wouldn’t.” Scout says.

                The RED Spy takes a photograph, handing it to Scout.  
                Scout gingerly takes hold of it, shaking slightly when he sees it’s a black and white photo of Teresa’s favorite performance, when she was the lead. He half hoped the RED Spy didn’t notice, but knowing that slimy bastard…

                “Tell him he can get the original color one, if he gives me the negatives of the photographs that are spread through the base.” The RED Spy says.

                “Why take it in the first place?” Scout asks.

                “I thought it was him.” The RED Spy says.

                He reaches for his watch, cloaking in his usual manner. Scout wasn’t sure if the man moved to leave, who knows. But, he looks at the photograph, turning it around. In red ink, marked as ‘original comments,’ was what was probably on the back.

                _Ma fille. Seize._ _Le Spectre de la Rose, rôle principal._

                How.  
                Scout _knew_ her father. Seen him in person, despite how busy he was. There is no way Teresa is the Spy’s daughter. No. Impossible.

*

                A month passes. An eventful one, actually. Something something teleporter malfunction, something, _probably dying because of tumors_. That and flirting with Miss Pauling didn’t go so well. That was when Scout finally decided that he had enough of keeping a secret. Went to Spy, after all they only had less than three days to live. Supposedly.

                “Sorry, just.” Scout says, “I was trying to sort out how to do it on my own. He wanted the negatives of those photos of him and Ma.”

                “I appreciate it, I suppose I have the copy in these last days.” Spy says, “I would have given the negatives. Would have trusted you to ensure you gotten the original.”

                “… Really?” Scout asks.

                “Oui. You can be convincing when you want to be. And, I am sure the RED Spy would trust you over me.” Spy says.

                It was awkward, Spy allowed him a stash of some brandy he had hiding around for a special occasion. Then the topic of Miss Pauling came up.

                “There is no flirting with Miss Pauling. She is married to her job.” Spy says.

                “But we only have three days left to live.” Scout argues, “I should at least… let her know my feelings.”

                And somehow, Spy did help. In his own way, acting like the ass he usually was, and awkwardly when things were getting serious. But Scout knew that Spy was doing everything he can, even pulling a favor from Demo and Sniper to provide background music. They got to the lesson on… seducing.

                “How would you woo a woman?” Spy asks.

                Scout does what his brother would do. Involving fried chicken and being entirely sure that was what Miss Pauling would appreciate. Worked in the past. But he saw Spy’s expression, the man would usually ask Scout if he was dropped on his head as an infant (Scout had _no idea_ ). Instead, Spy pulled out the photograph of Teresa.

                “This is your friend, non?” Spy asks, “Let’s say you asked her on a date.”

                “She’s outta my league!” Scout says, “That, and we’re just friends.”

                “Okay. Humor me.” Spy says, “Assume that you are trying to ask Teresa on a date. What would she do if you came upon her the way you said you would?”

                “Uh… probably kick me in the gut.” Scout says.

                “ _Then why do you think that is okay to do with Miss Pauling?_ ” Spy asks.

                With that as a motivator, Scout took what Spy was trying to teach him more seriously. Spy even set up with a gift, though he admitted it was cheesy to give gifts on the first date. But, he figured this was different since Scout knew Miss Pauling already.  
                A tube of lipstick, a dark shade that Scout almost thought was black.

                “Lipstick? Can you even find stuff in this color, or did you buy it?” Scout asks.

                Which was strange, now that it was out.

                “Would you believe I made it?” Spy asks.

                “Wait what. You made this?” Scout asks, “huh, bet all the pretty gals loved it, little gifts like this.”

                “Heh. Perhaps the truth is I was a pretty girl, once.” Spy says.

                Spy never clarified what he meant, and Scout figured it was a weird Spy statement. Whatever, at least things were getting back to normal between them, in spite of the situation.  
                It was still awkward with Miss Pauling. While she loved the gift, and was less weirded out by his nervousness…

                “Scout. I’m sorry. I’m just not into you, nor your brother. This is sweet, and I’m sure that you had a lot planned.” Miss Pauling says, “But this is-. Wait. You think you’re dying, aren’t you?”

                “How did you know?” Scout asks.

                “Oh my _God_ , not again- Well, actually, fighting the giant bread monster was fun.” Miss Pauling says.

                And there was a giant bread monster. It was indeed fun to fight. Then, Miss Pauling essentially told him that he was welcome to help her on her missions, but she was not particularly interested in any romance between him (or his brother).

                Honestly, Scout was fine with that. A bit hurt, but he could accept that Miss Pauling wasn’t going to be interested. His brother, he wasn’t sure, but he figures Jeremy will sort that out. Eventually.  
                Maybe.

                But today, Scout managed to do two things. One, make a trade with the RED Spy. And two, a small package from his ma came. All the photographs that he knew were wise choices, even a couple of Teresa alone.  
                Scout returns to Spy’s smoking room, finding the man lounging with a book. When Scout gives him the stack of images in the package, he’s confused.

                “It was only one… I don’t think he made that many copies.” Spy says.

                “Call it a surprise. I think you’ll like it.” Scout says.

                He decides he doesn’t want to see, walking towards the exit. He hears a couple shuffling, some mucking about, and figures that Spy must have been looking at the images. Scout gets to the door when he hears the gasp and hears the man fall to the ground.  
                Scout does look back, wondering if the man had a stroke. Nope. As it turns out, he’s on his knees with a bunch of the photos spread around because he lost hold of them. He’s gripping onto the small table next to him, almost as though he might slip into the ground.  
                The image…  
                Another private view in his life.

                Scout leaves, not quite sure what tomorrow would bring.  
                Well, he didn’t expect Spy to try to return the package the next day at breakfast. It was just them (no one counts the sleeping Sniper, dead to the world, standing up by the coffee pot).

                “I thank you for this, but I am sure your mother would want them back.” Spy says.

                “They’re copies. Those are yours.” Scout says.

                “Copies…” Spy starts, “You did this, for me?”

                Scout shrugs, going back to his monkey bread. Battle was soon, he needed to eat, and everyone ate pastries for breakfast (then there’s Sniper, who sometimes eats Peach Melba for breakfast).

                “… Merci.” Spy says.

                He puts the file under his arm, and leaves the room.  
                Only to return once more, with two photographs.

                “A small secret. You’ve got a day to sort it out, but I will take them back within a day.” Spy says.

                He’s gone again. Scout looks at them, not particularly seeing much of a difference. Well, they’re in color, though the tones were off in one. One had a pair of women, the other had men. He saw other similarities: one woman was darker skinned, almost reminded Scout of Egypt, and the man in the other photo had a similar vibe. The other woman had long dark hair, green eyes… the pairs were on the same side too. Egyptian woman on the left, the other… French. Looked French, on the right.

                The green eyes looked eerily familiar.

                Then he sees another hand point out the details. Fingerless gloves.

                “Jesus Snipes!” Scout says, “Don’t sneak up on people, that’s spook’s job.”

                “They’re the same people.” Sniper says.

                Scout laughs at that statement, almost ready to say that was ridiculous. Then, he watches the way Sniper points out the details. Sure, they looked entirely different, but Sniper pointed out there couldn’t be more than three years between the photos, and there were too many similar details. Sniper says he figured it out from the eyes.  
                Then Sniper pointed out the nose on the green eyed man and he hums.

                “Interesting secret Spook gave out.” Sniper says.

                Scout didn’t understand. He finishes his meal, deciding to return the photos sooner rather than earlier. Spy wasn’t in the smoking room, but Scout figured the man will get them quick and he made sure to hide a file on top of them.  
                It was when everyone was setting up in respawn a couple hours later that Scout got the answer.

                “Never figured you would pay for fancy eye contacts Spook.” Sniper says casually.

                “To keep the dirt out of my eyes.” Spy says.

                “Yeah. Sure. Or change your eye color.” Sniper says.

                Scout, well, everyone else really, they gotten curious. Some were more blatant about watching them than others. Spy looked directly to Scout, shaking his head as he takes off one of his gloves. Much to everyone’s amazement, he takes out his eye contacts. Scout thought it looked painful, who puts bits of… plastic? Whatever they were, looked a bit like lenses, and Spy put them in his eyes and-.  
                He has green eyes.  
                Scout thinks back to the image. Same green eyes. Looked a great deal like Teresa’s too.  
                As realization began to sink in, Spy leans closer to Sniper, the entire air between them tense. Spy managed, and even brought out his ‘seductive nature,’ probably to fuck with the marksman.

                “Oh, but _mon chasseur_ , it’s a bit unseemly for men to have such eyes, non?” Spy asks.

                “Makes you more like a snake.” Sniper comments.

                “Perhaps. But stands out awfully against the blue.” Spy says.

                Spy turns back to his team, shaking his head and makes a comment that if everyone was done gawking, they could go back to preparations.  
                Scout isn’t quite sure he understands. But, he knows whoever Spy is…

                He can see where Teresa gotten her personality.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @morpheusememori  
> writing tumblr- morpheusenmemori  
> tumblr- prince-darkleboop
> 
> also, Teresa is a fem scout.
> 
> the french text-  
> Rends le moi- give it back to me  
> quoi- what  
> Vous l’avez. C'est à moi. Rends le MOI- You have it. It is mine. Give it back to me.  
> Comment savez-vous le français- how do you know French?
> 
> the french swears-  
> Va te faire foutre- go fuck yourself  
> Encule toi salaud- fuck you bitch  
> Brûle en l’enfer, fils de pute- burn in hell, son of a bitch/whore  
> Nique ta mere- go fuck your mom  
> Fous le camps et morte- fuck off and die  
> Ta mere suce le penis d'animaux pour l'argent- your mom sucks animal dick for money


End file.
